B. recently rescued an emaciated young pit bull at the train station. He was on his way to work and found her eagerly scampering from one commuter to another at the platform, desperately trying to capture someone’s attention. If she wasn’t being ignored, she was being actively avoided. Who wants to be even near a pit bull, “knowing” their reputation?
Thankfully, B. knows better. He scooped up the little girl, and she’s now safe in a loving foster home, waiting for her forever family to choose her and take her home with them. She loves hugs, is the very manifestation of pure joy, and plays with anyone possessing enough energy to keep up with her.
Her name is Wednesday.
Thanks to more stories like this one from The Dad Letters, I hope there’ll be many more bridges built, love shared, trust given, friendships made, “reputations” restored.
I want to tell you a story about your dog, Zoe. We found her cowering at the pound. She wasn’t barking like the other dogs. She was simply laying there, looking up at us. The tag said, “lab mix” and she was slated to be killed in a week. We fell for it, thinking we were buying a lab.
She is not a lab. She is a pit bull.
As Zoe grew, we came to realize the pound had lied. I was scared. I felt irresponsible for letting this type of dog into my home. All of the stereotypes, preconceptions and worries filled my mind. Should I take her back? What would people think of us?
She is the definition of disenfranchised. When first time guests visit we lock her in her cage, not because she is dangerous, but because of unspoken fears. She receives wary glances from strangers as…
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